


i?,!ife^p^^<^« 



»^Qi^5^2ip=(t£[^ 



PRESIDENT WAYLAND'S DISCOURSE 



ON THE 



LIFE AND CHARACTER 



OF THE 



HON. NICHOLAS BROWN, 



LD 

,8 
B7W3 x^ 




^ 



»<>^^!?fe^J^ 




Gass 1jT1(^35 
Book u^ 



.13 n W3 



DISCOURSE 



IN COMMEMORATION OF 



THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 



HON. NICHOLAS BROWN, 



DELIVERED 



IN THE CHAPEL OF BROWN UNIVERSITY, 



NOVEMBER 3, 1841. 



By FRANCIS WAYLANDy Bt IX-, 

PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY. ' ' ' • 



BOSTON: 

GOULD, KENDALL, AND LINCOLN, 

59 Washington Street. 

1841. 



\>^^^ 



i . ^ " 



DISCOUESE. 



Ajv aged and much honored fellow-citizen has 
lately ceased from among us. His manly and ven- 
erable form will no more meet us at his hospitable 
fire-side, in the mart of business, or in the house of 
God. We have followed his remains to the house 
appointed for all the living, and have seen them, with 
every token of private affection and public respect, 
consigned to their last resting-place. The various 
institutions, with the management of which he had 
been so long identified, have borne testimony to his 
worth. The young and the old have delighted to do 
homage to his virtues. Every one of us feels that 
this community has sustained an irreparable loss; 
and that "a prince and a great man has fallen in 
Israel." 

It is meet, that at the grave of such a man we 
should pause, and devote a few moments to earnest 
meditation. It is appropriate for us to turn from the 



stirring avocations of business, and the retired pur- 
suits of letters, to contemplate a character which we 
have so long honored, and to estimate the results of 
a life, which has, in so many respects, modified the 
destiny of us and of our children. Here we may 
learn lessons of wisdom, which no where else can be 
taught so impressively. Standing on the isthmus 
which divides the present life from the future, we may 
thus appreciate with greater accuracy the relations 
which God has established between these two por- 
tions of our existence. 

The most impressive event, in the life of any human 
being, occurs at the moment when he is leaving it. 
The ties which have bound us to every thing below, 
are at that instant sundered. The rights and the 
obligations of parent and child, of husband and wife, 
of citizen and magistrate, of benefactor and recipient, 
all terminate here. The world hath no farther claims 
upon the silent sleeper on the bed of death, now that 
the last sad agony is over, and the soul hath returned 
to God who gave it. The spirit, in all its deathless 
energies, has entered another state, and has bidden 
adieu to all that it hoped or feared, to all that it loved or 
hated, in this its changeful existence. Henceforward 
its home is in eternity. 

But this is not the most impressive of the many 
thoughts that cluster around the idea of a spirit's 
departure. At that moment her probation closes. 
So long as we live, moral change is possible. Every 
act of our lives is, from the nature of our constitution, 
confirming us in those moral habits which must be 



sources either of joy or sorrow to the spirit through 
the long ages of her illimitable duration. But with 
the moment of her departure, her destiny is sealed for 
eternity. Her character can henceforth change only 
by progression. The direction which it has taken at 
the moment of death must remain with it for ever. 
Hereafter it must move onward and upward from 
glory to glory, or onward and downward from shame 
to shame. 

The death of a friend leads us, moreover, to reflect 
both upon the brevity of life, and the permanency of its 
results. Then, as we look back over the period of our 
sublunary existence, we see that, emphatically, our 
days are as a shadow, and that our " life is as a vapor, 
which continueth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
away." Whether we compare it with duration that is 
past, or with duration that is yet to be, it dwindles to an 
almost invisible point. If we review the history of a 
human life, so far as its relations to our present state 
are concerned, all seems evanescent as a fleeting 
dream. A restless struggle after the means of sub- 
sistence, a few rapid successions of feverish excite- 
ment and languid repose, a few aflfections warmed 
into life and chilled into apathy, and then all is laid 
at rest beneath the clods of the valley. What are all 
these to the spirit that has entered upon its state of 
retribution, or to the frail tenement which is already 
crumbling to its original dust! And yet upon this 
momentary existence eternal destinies are suspended. 
Consequences, which the mind of seraph cannot 
estimate, result from this transitory life. The ques- 



6 

tion, whether the ever-unfolding spirit shall be happy 
or miserable, is, during this little period, decided, and 
the decision can be reversed no more for ever. 

But it is not only upon ourselves that the results of 
the present life are interminable. From the very 
constitution of our being, we mutually influence and 
are influenced by the character of others. To isolate 
ourselves from society is impossible. The characters 
of parents and children reciprocally modify each other. 
Who does not perceive, that his present intellectual 
and moral nature has derived its form and pressure 
from the beings with whom he has been associated 
during his previous history? Scarcely a single 
element of our character can be detected, which 
would not have been materially changed, had our 
parents and friends, our instructers and our pupils, 
our reading and our studies, been other than they 
have been. The influence which has been exerted 
over us, we in our turn exert over others. Thus the 
present is always the child of the past. Had the past 
been changed, the present could not be what it is. And 
it matters not in what direction our efforts are exerted, 
the result is the same. The object of intellectual 
action is to produce change in the mind of man ; and 
the mind of man is indestructible. By the laws of our 
being, impressions upon the soul become broader and 
deeper, and multiply their own resemblances upon 
the souls that every where surround us. Whether our 
example be for good or for evil, whether we dissem- 
inate truth or error, whether we breathe into the 
minds of others conceptions of purity or of guilt, we are 



setting in motion trains of thought, of which the con- 
sequences shall only begin to be unfolded when the 
heavens shall have been wrapped together as a scroll, 
and the elements have melted with fervent heat. 
Thus " we may rest from our labors, but our w^orks 
do follow us." 

It may, I know, be said, that these results can only 
be appreciated in those cases where God has be- 
stowed upon man extraordinary means for influencing 
the character of his fellows. We grant that then 
only can they be appreciated ; but it is evident, that 
in all other cases they as truly ensue. I grant that 
our power to confer enduring benefits upon man 
depends, in no inconsiderable degree, upon talent and 
wealth, and social position ; but I also affirm that it 
depends in a more remarkable degree upon ourselves. 
Our lives are wasted away in frivolity, and our influ- 
ence upon our race is limited to those results which 
we cannot escape, because we choose to have it so. 
There is not one of us who might not render his 
existence an illimitable blessing to mankind, if he 
would be just unto himself. What a theatre of action 
would this world present, did we dilate our concep- 
tions until they comprehended, only in some feeble 
degree, the greatness of our destiny. How infinitely 
glorious would the capabilities of our present state 
appear, could we look down upon this world from the 
battlements of heaven. The sons of God, who have 
never sinned, thus look down upon us ; and "are they 
not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister to those 
who are heirs of salvation ?" 



8 

If such be the relation which this life sustains to 
another, and if such be the influence which we must 
exert over those that come after us, it is manifest that 
we can accomplish, in no signal degree, the purposes 
of our being unless we act for posterity. We can 
associate our names with succeeding ages, only by 
deeds or by thoughts which they will not willingly 
forget. And thus it is that every where man seeks 
to attain to a sublunary immortality. The crumbling 
tombstone and the gorgeous mausoleum, the sculp- 
tured marble, and the venerable cathedral, all bear 
witness to the instinctive desire within us to be 
remembered by coming generations. But how short- 
lived is the immortality which the works of our hands 
can confer ! The noblest monuments of art, that the 
world has ever seen, are covered with the soil of 
twenty centuries. The works of the age of Pericles, 
lie at the foot of the Acropolis in indiscriminate ruin. 
The ploughshare turns up the marble which the hand 
of Phidias had chiselled into beauty, and the Mussul- 
man has folded his flock beneath the falling columns 
of the temple of Minerva. But even the works of 
our hands too frequently survive the memory of those 
who have created them. And were it otherwise, 
could we thus carry down to distant ages the recol- 
lection of our existence, it were surely childish to waste 
the energies of an immortal spirit in the effort to make 
it known to other times, that a being whose name 
was written with certain letters of the alphabet, once 
lived, and flourished, and died. Neither sculptured 
marble, nor stately column, can reveal to other ages 



the lineaments of the spirit; and these alone can 
embalm our memory in the hearts of a grateful pos- 
terity. As the stranger stands beneath the dome of 
St. Paul's, or treads, with religious awe, the silent 
aisles of Westminster Abbey, the sentiment, which is 
breathed from every object around him, is, the utter 
emptiness of sublunary glory. The most magnificent 
nation, that the world has ever seen, has here 
exhausted every effort to render illustrious her sons, 
who have done worthily. The fine arts, obedient to 
private affection or public gratitude, have embodied, 
in every form, the finest conceptions of which their 
age was capable. In years long gone by, each one of 
these monuments has been watered by the tears of 
the widow, the orphan, or the patriot. But generations 
have passed away, and mourners and mourned have 
sunk together into forgetfulness. The aged crone, 
or the smooth-tongued beadle, as now he hurries you 
^through aisle and chapel, utters, with measured 
cadence and unmeaning tone, for the thousandth 
time, the name and lineage of the once honored dead ; 
and then gladly dismisses you, to repeat again his 
w^ell-conned lesson to another group of idle passers 
by. Such, in its most august form, is all the immor- 
tality that matter can confer. Impressive and 
venerable though it be, it is the impressiveness of 
a solemn and mortifying failure. It is by what we 
ourselves have done, and not by what others have 
done for us, that we shall be remembered by after 
ages. It is by thought that has aroused my intellect 
from its slumbers, which has " given lustre to virtue, 
2 



10 

and dignity to truth," or by those examples which 
have inflamed my soul with the love of goodness, and 
not by means of sculptured marble, that I hold com- 
munion with Shakspeare and Milton, with Johnson 
and Burke, with Howard and Wilberforce. 

It is then obvious, that if we desire to live worthily, 
if we wish to fulfil the great purposes for which we 
w^ere created, we must leave the record of our exist- 
ence inscribed on the ever-during spirit. The 
impression there made can never be effaced. " Time, 
which obliterates nations and the record of their 
existence," only renders the lineaments which we 
trace on mind deeper and more legible. From the 
very principles of our social nature, moral and intel- 
lectual character multiplies indefinitely its own likeness. 
This, then, is the appropriate field of labor for the 
immortal and ever-growing soul. 

I know that the power thus given to us is fre- 
quently abused. I am aware, that the most gifted 
intellect has frequently been prostituted to the 
dissemination of error, and that the highest capacity 
for action has been devoted to the perpetration of 
wrong. It is melancholy beyond expression, to 
behold an immortal spirit, by precept and example 
urging forward its fellows to rebellion against God. 
But it is some alleviation to the pain of such a con- 
templation to remember, that in the constitution of our 
nature a limit has been fixed to the triumph of evil. 
Falsity in theory is every where confronted by the 
facts which present themselves to every man's 
observation. A lie has not power to change the 



11 

ordinances of God. Every day discloses its utter 
worthlessness, until it fades away from our recollec- 
tion, and is numbered among the things that were. 
The indissoluble connection which our Creator has 
established between vice and misery, tends also con- 
tinually to arrest the progress of evil, and to render 
odious whatever would render evil attractive. The 
conscience of man himself, when once the storm of 
passion has subsided, stamps it with moral disappro- 
bation. The remorse of his own bosom forbids him 
to reveal to another his own atrocious principles. 
The innate affections of the heart teach us to shield 
those whom we love from the contaminations of vice. 
Hence, the effect of wicked example and of impure 
conceptions, meeting with ceaseless resistance in the 
social and moral impulsions of the soul, becomes from 
age to age less apparent. Men are willing that such 
examples should be forgotten, and they sink into 
oblivion. Thus is it that, in the words of inspiration, 
" the memory of the just is blessed, but the name of 
the wicked shall rot." 

It is then manifest, that we accomplish the highest 
purposes of our existence, not merely by exerting the 
power which God has given us upon the spirit of 
man, but by exerting that power for the purpose of 
promoting his happiness and confirming his virtue. 
It is by the discovery and dissemination of truth, by 
quickening into action the dormant energies of the 
soul, and raising it to a true conception of its being 
and its destiny ; it is by unfolding to the present and 
to future ages the laws of the Creator, and thus 



12 

opening to man perennial sources of happiness, and 
discovering to him renewed occasions of gratitude 
and adoration ; it is by sending abroad those influ- 
ences which shall deliver man from the thraldom of 
the senses, and teach him to aspire after all that is 
holy ; it is by cleansing the soul from the pollutions 
of guilt, and making it meet to be a partaker with the 
saints in light ; it is thus, thus only, that we can act 
worthily of our destiny, and put forth, to the full 
amount of their power, the capacities with which God 
has created us. Effort thus directed, is in harmony 
with the interests, the affections and the conscience 
of man; and thus the strongest and the noblest 
principles of our nature co-operate in rendering it 
ultimately successful. It is in harmony with the 
goodness, the wisdom, and the holiness of God ; and 
the nature of the Deity must change, ere he would 
suffer a life, spent in humble imitation of his own 
perfections, to fail of accomplishing the highest pur- 
poses of which he hath made it susceptible, or brand 
with the mark of his disapprobation the exercise of 
those virtues of which he himself is the author and 
exemplar. 

The application of these remarks to the occasion 
on which we have assembled, will be obvious to you 
all. A man, distinguished for a life of well-directed 
benevolence, has lately finished his course, and en- 
tered into his rest. He has conferred additional 
means of happiness upon us and upon posterity. To 
cherish his memory is therefore the dictate of grati- 



13 

tude, while our hearts may surely be made better by 
contemplating those facts in his life which give him 
so strong a claim to the recollection of his fellow- 
citizens. I stand here neither to eulogize the dead, 
nor to offer adulation to the living. My only object 
is, so to set before you an example of benevolence 
and public spirit, as to strengthen in every one of 
you the resolution to go and do likewise. 

The Honorable Nicholas Brown was descended 
from Mr. Chad Browne, — an individual of that little 
company who fled with Roger Williams from the 
persecution of the then colony of Massachusetts. 
Roger Williams, in one of his works, speaks of him 
as " that holy man, now with God, Chad Browne." 
The family has ever since borne an important part in 
the history of Rhode Island. They have been very 
generally remarkable for successful enterprise, active 
patriotism, ardent love of liberty, consistent piety, and 
general benevolence. Nicholas, the father of Mr. 
Brown, one of the four brothers whose comprehensive 
views and mercantile energy contributed so largely to 
the prosperity of this their native town, was distin- 
guished for uncommon good sense, native modesty, 
and meek yet cheerful piety. His son, until the day 
of his death, never spoke of him but with profound 
respect and filial veneration. 

Mr. Brown was born in this city, on the fourth of 
April, 1769. He entered this University, then Rhode 
Island College, at the early age of thirteen, in the 
year 1782, under the presidentship of Dr. Manning, 
an instructer for whom he ever entertained the most 



14 

grateful regard. In 1786, before he had attained his 
eighteenth year, he was admitted to the first degree 
in the arts. In 1791, he was elected a member of 
the Board of Trustees of this institution. Upon the 
resignation of his uncle, Mr. John Brown, in the year 
1796, he was elected Treasurer of the Corporation. 
This office he held until September, 1825, when he 
resigned it in consequence of his election to the 
Board of Fellows, of which he was a member at the 
time of his decease. His attention to his duties as a 
member of the Corporation was exemplary. For more 
than half a century, indeed until his last illness, he 
was, I believe, never absent from any meeting of the 
Corporation, and always took an active interest in 
every discussion that involved the welfare of the 
University. 

Mr. Brown, as you well know, was from early life 
engaged in mercantile pursuits. On his character in 
this connection, it is not necessary that I should 
enlarge. It will be sufficient to observe, that in 
company with his brother-in-law, the late Thomas P. 
Ives, from the year 1791 to 1836 he conducted the 
affairs of one of the largest commercial houses in 
New England, and that they gave to it a reputation 
for undeviating integrity and financial skill, which has 
caused the name of Brown & Ives to be respected in 
every city of Europe and America. His disposition 
was ardent, and his plans frequently adventurous. 
Yet the success of his diversified operations sufficient- 
ly testified that boldness of enterprise may be harmo- 
niously united with vigorous and deliberate judgment. 



15 

He was endowed in an unusual degree with that 
quality, which I know not how better to express than 
by the term, largeness of mind. A plan or an enter- 
prise was attractive to him, other things being equal, 
in proportion to its extensiveness. His commercial 
views were much tinged by this predominating bias. 
The same disposition might be distinctly traced in all 
his benevolent efforts. He was a close and cautious 
observer of the dispositions of men and the tendencies 
of things. He seemed habitually to look at results, 
and frequently at results long distant. Hence, his 
charities, though large and greatly diversified, were 
principally bestowed upon those objects which tended 
to affect the courses of human action and human 
thought. He sought not so much to build up, as to 
lay the foundations ; and hence, as we shall have 
occasion to see, his benevolence will be likely to 
produce its permanent results upon coming genera- 
tions. 

To you who knew him so well, — and where is the 
citizen of Providence to whom he was not personally 
known 1 — I need not add, that he was distinguished 
from other men by a large share of instinctive benev- 
olence. His heart was the abode of active sympathy 
for every form of human suffering. He not unfre- 
quently visited the sick in their own dwellings, while 
his door was frequently thronged, and his steps way- 
laid, by the poor and unfortunate of every age. I 
think I do not at all overstate the fact, when I assert, 
that for the last twenty-five years, whenever any 
person among us, in almost any rank of society, was 



16 

in pecuniary distress, the first person to whom he 
would spontaneously apply for relief was Nicholas 
Brown. Nor was his reputation for charity confined 
to his native place. Almost every mail brought him 
applications for assistance, from every part of New 
England, and even from the remoter States ; and 
rarely, it is believed, were such appeals unavailing. 
The amount of these distant disbursements was never 
known, except to himself. The frequency of the 
applications is of itself sufficient proof that they were 
not made in vain. Men are not prone to apply for 
aid where their neighbors have often applied without 
success. Another illustration of his kindness of heart 
is found in his tenderness for the reputation of others. 
His benevolence was frequently requited by ingrat- 
itude ; yet, under the most irritating provocations, he 
was never known to indulge in the language either 
of harshness or reproach. He seemed always dis- 
posed to look upon human nature in its most favor- 
able aspects, and when no favorable aspect could be 
discovered, to contemplate the spectacle in silence. 
The leading traits of Mr. Brown's character were, 
I think, distinctly revealed in his countenance. In 
his ample brow and well -developed forehead, you 
could not but observe the marks of a vigorous and 
expansive intellect ; while his mouth indicated a spirit 
tenderly alive to human suffering, and habitually 
occupied in the contemplation of deeds of compas- 
sion. 

Although Mr. Brown was never connected with 
any Christian church, it is well known that he was^ 



17 

in early life, deeply impressed with the importance of 
religion, and gave to it ever afterwards a most solemn 
and thoughtful attention. He was ardently attached 
to the doctrines of the Reformation, and studied them 
with earnestness and delight. His habitual compan- 
ions were the works of President Edwards, of Owen, 
of Baxter, and of Doddridge. I do not think that there 
was any branch of human knowledge with which he 
was so well acquainted as theology. I need not add 
that he was a daily reader of the Holy Scriptures, and 
that they were the source of his consolation and the 
foundation of his hope, when every thing earthly had 
lost its power to interest him. 

Responding to the views which the Scriptures 
present, of our moral obligations, it may be well 
supposed that his directly religious charities were 
large and unremitted. Before the existence of the 
American Tract Society, he had published, at his own 
expense, some of the most impressive sermons of Pres- 
ident Edwards, as well as some other small practical 
theological works, for gratuitous distribution. From 
the commencement of that Society to his death, he was 
one of its firmest friends and most liberal supporters. 
In company with some other distinguished men, he pre- 
sented it with the stereotype plates, from which Dod- 
dridge's Rise and Progress of Religion and Baxter's 
Saint's Rest are printed ; thus evincing his desire to 
place in the hands of every man the sentiments from 
which he had himself derived peculiar benefit. He took 
a deep interest in the support of religious institutions. 
The sums which he either gave, or else lent without 
3 



18 

hope of repa3'ment, towards the building of churches, 
and the endowment in every part of our country of 
colleges and academies, amounted probably to thou- 
sands of dollars annually. Although he was conscien- 
tiously a Baptist, yet his charities were rarely solicited 
in vain by Christians of every other denomination. 

Mr. Brown was fully aware of the established 
relation between the cultivation of the moral and the 
intellectual powers. He firmly believed that the dis- 
semination of knowledge, and the improvement of the 
understanding, were vitally important to the progress 
of virtue and religion. Some of the most benevolent 
acts of his life were prompted by these sentiments. 
Of these it becomes me now briefly to speak. 

Previously to the year 1836, the city of Providence 
was destitute of a Hbrary in any measure commen- 
surate with its wants, or worthy of its intellectual char- 
acter. At this time, the Providence Library Company 
and the Providence Atheneum relinquished their 
separate organization, in order to be merged in a new 
institution. The new^ Atheneum was incorporated in 
January of that year. On the 29th of the following 
February, the first meeting of the corporation was 
held. On the 9th of March succeeding, the Board of 
Directors received a letter offering to the Institution 
a valuable site of land for an edifice, six thousand 
dollars towards defraying the expenses of its erection, 
and four thousand dollars towards the purchase of 
books, on condidon that the citizens of Providence 
contributed ten thousand dollars more towards the 
edifice, and four thousand for the purchase of books, 



19 

exclusive of what should be raised by the sale of 
shares in the Atheneum. This letter was signed by 
Nicholas Brown, and by Moses B. Ives, and Robert 
H. Ives, for the estate of Thomas P. Ives, deceased. 
Toward the amount thus subscribed, it is understood 
that Mr. Brown contributed one half. The offer was 
immediately accepted, and the requisite sum sub- 
scribed. Thus were laid the foundations of the 
Providence Atheneum, an institution from whose 
existence a new era will be dated in the intellectual 
and moral history of this city. 

Of the value to this community of this act of noble 
munificence, it is scarcely possible to speak in exag- 
gerated terms. It is not too much to say, that but 
for this donation it would not have existed. It com- 
menced with the libraries of the two previous 
institutions, amounting to 4162 volumes. Its annual 
increase from the commencement has scarcely fallen 
short of 1000 volumes. At the date of the last annual 
report, it numbered on its catalogue 9187 volumes. 
For the three years last, ending with September, 
1841, the number of books loaned had amounted to 
37,894. These books have been all selected with 
discriminating caution, by a committee of our most 
pure-minded, intelligent and judicious fellow-citizens. 
They form a collection of the most valuable works of 
which English literature can boast. Thus, through 
the liberality of two families, whose names this city 
will ever hold in grateful recollection, the means of 
rich and varied intellectual and moral cultivation have 
been placed within the reach of every individual 



20 

among us. A fountain has been opened, whose pure 
and fertilizing waters are carried to every family. 
Here the young may derive instruction, and the aged 
consolation. Thus will influences continually emanate 
from that spot consecrated to virtue and knowledge, 
pervading every rank, and penetrating to every class 
of society, to invigorate the intellect, purify the taste, 
and refine the manners; diffusing around every 
fireside the charm of elegant letters and brilliant 
conversation, delivering us from the dominion of the 
passions, and multiplying a thousand fold, to all com- 
ing generations, the sources of innocent enjoyment 
and domestic bliss. So rich and so permanent are 
the rewards of well-directed benevolence. 

It becomes me, in the last place, to speak of the 
peculiar relation in which Mr. Brown has stood to this 
Institution. 

In the year 1764, several gentlemen of the Baptist 
persuasion, deeply impressed with the importance of 
promoting the cultivation of science and letters, 
resolved to establish in the colony of Rhode Island 
and Providence plantations, an institution of learning. 
Most of them were citizens of Rhode Island, though to 
their number were very soon added all the most distin- 
guished clergymen and laymen of that denomination 
throughout the colonies. They applied to the Gen- 
eral Assembly for a charter, and their application was 
granted on the last Monday of February, 1764. 
The first meeting of the corporation, under the charter, 
was held at Newport, on the first Wednesday of 
September of the same year, from which date the 
history of the college commences. 



21 

Among the most efficient promoters of this benevo- 
lent design, were Mr. Nicholas Brown the father, and 
his three brothers. On the early records of the 
college, their names appear, more frequently than any 
others, as its zealous and intelligent friends. 

Very soon after the establishment of the institution, 
a spirited effort was made throughout this country and 
in Europe to raise the funds necessary for its endow- 
ment. A sum quite considerable for those times was 
collected, principally through the agency of the Rev. 
Messrs. Morgan Edwards, Hezekiah Smith and John 
Gano. These funds were, however, almost entirely 
exhausted in erecting the building now known as 
University Hall, or in repairing the injuries which it had 
sustained while occupied as barracks and a hospital 
during the revolutionary war. At the close of this 
period, when the College was reorganized, the property 
of the institution consisted of but very little more than 
a single edifice for the accommodation of students, a 
house for the President, and the site, then somewhat 
extensive, on which they were erected. The library 
was exceedingly small, and its philosophical apparatus 
was scarcely deserving of the name. 

Under these circumstances, the Rev. Dr. Manning 
resumed his duties as President. The reputation of 
his name, and the wide extent of his personal influ- 
ence, attracted, in a few years, a very respectable 
number of pupils. By his exertions, the library was 
considerably increased, some small additions were 
made to its funds, and a warm interest was awakened 
in its favor among all the Baptist churches throughout 



22 

the Union. Still its progress, though perceptible, was 
slow. Its buildings did not increase, nor its means of 
instruction in any remarkable degree improve. Its 
friends were not generally wealthy, nor had they any 
adequate conviction of the importance of professional 
education to the church or to the world. It continued, 
from the close of the Revolution to the year 1804, to 
struggle under pecuniary difficulties, without the 
means of enlarging its foundations, or rendering more 
valuable the opportunities which it afforded for 
intellectual cultivation. 

In the year 1796, Mr. Brown was elected the 
Treasurer of the College. In this situation he had a 
full knowledge of its condition, and he soon directed 
his attention to its relief. Previously to the year 1804, 
he had presented it with a law library of considerable 
value. On the sixth of September of that year, he 
gave to the corporation the sum of five thousand 
dollars for the purpose of founding a professorship of 
Oratory and Belles Lettres. In the letter to the cor- 
poration proffering this endowment, he refers to his 
warm attachment to the College, as the place of his 
education and of that of his brother ; and also from the 
recollection that his late honored father was among its 
earliest and most zealous patrons. In consequence 
of this donation, it was at the same meeting of the 
corporation voted, "that this College be called and 
known by the name of Brown University." 

For a series of years, under the Presidentship of 
the eloquent and accomplished Dr. Maxcy, and of 
the late Rev. Dr. Messer, a scholar of profound and 



23 

varied learning, as well as an instructer of singular 
ability, this institution continued to advance with 
accelerated progress in usefulness and reputation. 
Its means of accommodation to the pupils who 
resorted hither for instruction, became at last wholly 
inadequate to the demand, and an additional edifice 
was absolutely necessary to its ulterior success. At 
this crisis, Mr. Brown came forward to its aid. In 
the year 1823, he erected, solely at his own expense, 
the second college building, which, at his suggestion, 
has since been known by the name of Hope College. 
In his letter to the corporation, on this occasion, he 
remarks, "Believing that the dissemination of knowl- 
edge and letters is the great means of social happi- 
ness, I have caused this edifice to be erected, and 
now present it to this corporation to be held with their 
other corporate property, according to their charter." 
He closes this letter with the devout hope, that 
" Heaven will bless and make it useful in the promo- 
tion of virtue, science, and literature, to those of the 
present and future generations, who may resort to this 
University for education." 

The means for the accommodation of students 
were, by this act of munificence, more than doubled. 
Important deficiencies in the various departments of 
instruction remained yet to be supplied. The philo- 
sophical apparatus which had been purchased at 
different times, and most of it at a remote period, had 
become, from ordinary wear and accident, almost unfit 
for use. With the exception of a valuable astronom- 
ical clock, and an excellent transit instrument by 



24 

Troughton, the gift of Mr. J. C. Brown and Mr. R. 
H. Ives, the whole of it was, I think, inferior to that 
which at present we frequently see in the possession 
of many of our high schools and academies. By the 
liberality of Mr. Brown and his brother-in-law, Mr. 
Thomas P. Ives, this department was at once placed 
in its present advantageous position. These gentle- 
men directed the faculty to order, at their expense, 
such a suit of apparatus, in all the departments of 
experimental science, as the wants of the University 
seemed to require. These instruments were received 
in the year 1829. The University was thus furnished 
at once with as ample means for philosophical illus- 
tration as almost any in our country, and superior, in 
fact, to those possessed by many similar institutions in 
Europe. 

The library of the University, however, still re- 
mained in its primitive condition. It consisted, for 
the most part, of donations, which had been made in 
America and Great Britain, during the early history of 
the institution. Small appropriations from the general 
funds of the University had occasionally been made, 
in obedience to the demands of absolute necessity. 
These, however, only relieved particular and immediate 
wants. Nothing had yet been done to provide for its 
permanent and progressive enlargement, or to enable 
it to collect together the ever-coming results of human 
thought, or put it in the power of the instructors to 
avail themselves of the intellectual treasures of past 
generations. The library room was an apartment in 
University Hall, crowded to excess, unsightly and 



25 

inconvenient, and wholly unsuited for the purpose to 
which, from necessity, it was devoted. At this junc- 
ture, the friends of the Institution proposed to supply 
this great deficiency. A subscription was opened for 
the purpose of raising the sum of ^25,000, of which 
the interest was to be for ever appropriated to the 
increase of the Library and the purchase of philosoph- 
ical instruments. To this fund Mr. Brown gave the 
sum of ^10,000, and, in order to the perfect accom- 
plishment of the object, erected, at his own expense, 
the beautiful edifice in which we are now assembled, 
for a library room and chapel. This fund, by sub- 
scription and accumulation of interest, has been raised 
to the sum originally proposed, and it is now con- 
ferring upon this University the rich benefits intended 
by its benevolent and public spirited contributors. 
To this edifice, Mr. Brown, in testimony of veneration 
for his former instructer, gave the name of Manning 
Hall. It was opened by appropriate services in 
February, 1835. The amount given by Mr. Brown 
on this occasion fell but litde short of thirty thousand 
dollars. 

These increasing facilities for instruction, however, 
only rendered more apparent the additional wants of 
the Institution. The departments of Physical Science 
and of Natural Philosophy, under the superintendence 
of the distinguished gentlemen to whose care they are 
confided, had vastly increased in importance. Our 
collection of specimens in Geology, already rich and 
valuable, was rendered almost useless, from the fact 
that no apartment could be provided in which it 
4 



26 

could be displayed. The University was almost 
destitute of a Chemical laboratory, and the lecture 
rooms for the Professors of Chemistry and Experi- 
mental Science were small and inconvenient. The 
grounds in front of the University buildings, suscep- 
tible of great beauty, were rude and unimproved. 
It had for some years been manifest, that another effort 
was demanded in order to render in the fullest man- 
ner available the intellectual resources of which the 
University was already in possession. 

Influenced by these considerations, Mr. Brown 
again came forward with his accustomed liberality. 
In a letter to the Treasurer, under the date of March 
18, 1839, "he tendered to the corporation, for the 
purpose of erecting a mansion for the President, and 
another College edifice for the accommodation of the 
departments of Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, 
Mineralogy, and Natural History, three valuable lots 
of land as sites for these buildings, and ten thousand 
dollars, namely, seven thousand dollars for the Pres- 
ident's house, and three thousand dollars towards the 
erection of the College edifice and the improvement 
of the adjacent grounds, provided an equal amount 
be subscribed by the friends of the Institution before 
the first of May next." 

To this appeal, the friends of the University, with 
great liberality and promptitude, cheerfully responded. 
Before the first of May the subscription was more 
than filled up. And it is with honest pride that I 
add, that the whole sum, with the exception of about 
six hundred dollars, was contributed by the citizens 



27 

of Providence and its vicinity. The President's 
house, and the edifice now known as Rhode Island 
Hall, were immediately erected, and the latter was 
opened with an address by Mr, William G. Goddard, 
Professor of Belles Lettres, on the 4th of September, 
1840. The grounds were graded and adorned, and 
the surrounding premises placed in the condition in 
which we now behold them. 

This is the last act of munificence during the life- 
time of Mr. Brown, which we have the pleasure to 
record. In the following winter his health began 
visibly to decline. He gradually sunk under the 
pressure of disease, exhibiting, throughout the whole 
of his protracted illness, a patience under suffering, a 
resignation to the will of God, and an earnest reliance 
for salvation on the merits of the Redeemer, which 
gave the most cheering assurance that death has 
introduced him to a blissful immortality. Surrounded 
by those who venerated and loved him, he gently fell 
asleep early in the morning of September 27, 1841, 
in the seventy-third year of his age. 

Mr. Brown made to the University several bequests 
of land and other property, which as they become 
due, will materially aid in promoting the purposes of 
instruction. 

I close this discourse with a few suggestions which 
naturally arise from the preceding remarks. 

Mr. Brown formed the habit of doing good in early 
life. As one instance of liberality prepared his heart 



28 

for another, his spirit was progressively enlarged 
to greater capacity for benevolence. His charities 
became, with advancing years, greater; and they 
followed each other in more and more rapid succes- 
sion. He thus enjoyed in his own soul the happiness 
of increasing goodness. Nor was this all. He had 
the pleasure of witnessing for himself the effects of 
his beneficence. He saw this University, under his 
fostering care, rising from its early depression, and 
taking its place side by side with the cherished 
institutions of New England. He not only sowed the 
seed, but was himself permitted to reap the harvest. 
Let us learn wisdom from this impressive example. 
Why should a man postpone the period of his 
benevolence until the time when the love of wealth, 
eating like a canker into his soul, has paralyzed every 
generous sentiment ; or until death, loosening by force 
his grasp upon his possessions, has rendered the 
virtue of charity impossible. Why should we put 
off the doing of good until the motives of goodness 
can no longer impel us. Let us now in life enjoy for 
ourselves the luxury of benevolence. 

I think that we may learn from what I have said, 
something of the trjue use of riches. Observe the 
results which in this instance have begun to flow 
from judicious liberality. An institution has here 
been founded, which we hope will continue to all 
future time to scatter abroad " the benefits of science 
and the blessings of religion." Its cheering influences 
have been already observed in the courts of justice and 



29 

in the halls of legislation. Already has it swayed the 
senate by its eloquence, and illuminated the bench by 
its wisdom. Already has it contributed its humble 
share to the elevation of our national character, by the 
diffusion of virtuous and high-minded public sentiment. 
Nor is its effect less remarkable upon the pulpit. It 
has, in instances I had almost said without number, 
given to our churches a learned, intelligent, and pious 
ministry, — a ministry, which without its aid would have 
been obliged to labor on through life in ignorance and 
obscurity. To what extent it has thus enlarged the 
dominion of virtue and religion, you can conceive 
better than I can express. All this will, we hope, 
go on increasing to unnumbered generations. All 
this is, to a very great degree, the result of the use of 
a small portion of that wealth with which God had 
entrusted a single man. In what other way could it 
have been so appropriated as to yield so glorious a 
result ? In what other manner can we so truly confer 
a benefit upon those that come after us ? If you must 
leave to your children wealth, surround them, I 
beseech you, with an atmosphere of goodness, that 
shall protect them from temptation, and stimulate them 
by the force of your example to still more noble deeds 
of virtue and benevolence. 

I have remarked that Mr. Brown was very universally 
appealed to whenever benevolent aid was needed 
among us. In one respect, perhaps, this was a 
disadvantage to this city. It taught us to rely too 
exclusively upon his assistance. We can thus rely 
no longer. Henceforth we must be conscious that 



30 

a more imperative duty devolves upon each one of 
us. Let the results of his munificence encourage us 
to follow his example. The foundations of this 
University are laid ; they are, however, we hope, to be 
enlarged and the superstructure is to be erected. 
Why should its means of instruction in every branch 
of human learning be inferior to those of any University 
in our land ? Benevolent institutions of various kinds 
are greatly needed among us. The capabilities of 
our city and its environs are exceeded by those of 
very few that I have ever seen. Why should not a 
benevolent public spirit delight itself in multiplying 
and improving the forms of beauty and loveliness 
every where around us ? Why should not this city 
be the cherished home of justice and of law, of 
intellectual cultivation and of refined taste, of unde- 
filed morality and of high souled public sentiment? 
Let every man among us answer it to himself. 




M 




vX^C^y^ 



